


A Better Light

by shaniac13



Series: The New Beginning [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, oops i put the tags in the characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-07 17:39:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19474087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shaniac13/pseuds/shaniac13
Summary: okay so basically harry was at the zoo for Dudley's b-day and ran away from Vernon after he made the glass disappear. He wound up in the administration office and the receptionist noticed something was off with the kid. This is a story of competent adults :)





	A Better Light

**Author's Note:**

> For the most part this story is mine, however, any content from the Harry Potter franchise is not mine.The credit goes to J.K. Rowling. All original characters and content are mine.

Year 1- Chapter 1  
Harry did not understand a lot. After all, he was only 10 years old. However, if there was one thing he understood, it was that this was, in fact, not normal. No, he did not think vanishing an exhibit’s glass at the zoo and then proceeding to speak to the snake which inhabited it, was normal. 

Looking at his cousin, who was now behind the glass, Harry knew he would be in trouble. Harry knew that he should run and try to hide. So, he did exactly that. He had never been to the zoo before, so it was fairly easy to get lost in it. His uncle can’t find him, if Harry himself doesn’t know where he was going. 

As he was quickly walking away, (“Good boys do NOT run in public.”), he saw the administrative building up ahead. Yes, they would be able to help. Harry decided to approach the desk and wait until they acknowledged him. (“Good boys do NOT speak without being spoken to first.”) It took several minutes for the secretary to notice the small boy, who could barely see over the counter. 

“Hello, young man. May I help you?”

“Hello, miss. Is there somewhere in here that I could hide?”

“I’m sorry, but we don’t allow guests access to this building. What’s your name?”

Harry didn’t know how to answer. (“Good boys do NOT tell their real name to anyone.”)

“Young man?” 

“I’m sorry, Miss. I’m not supposed to tell anyone my real name.”

The secretary was visibly confused. Who was this boy? Why would he need to hide? Why couldn’t he say his name?

“That’s alright, honey. Can you tell me why you need to hide? Or from whom you’re hiding?”

Harry could answer that. (“Good boys do NOT ignore a direct question, unless it interferes with any of the other rules.”) He was pretty sure this question was allowed.

“Well, my uncle will be angry with me, so I had to hide. He doesn’t like it when I do things that aren’t normal or, as he calls it, freakish.” Harry flinches when he says the last word. He hates that word.

The secretary was now worried, instead of confused. Clearly this boy needed help, but why was he being so apathetic about the situation? Surely he understood the queues he was giving her? He was barely making eye contact with her, and flinched at a word, which for all its meanings, was fairly regularly used.

“Let me make a call, and see if I can’t help you, alright?” The secretary moves to pick up the phone. “Just take a seat over there.”

Harry froze. (“Good boys do NOT let others make calls about them for any reason.”) He knew that if she made that phone call he would be in even more trouble. 

“NO. No, you can’t do that!” The secretary jumped at his sudden increase in volume. Why would he be so upset at a phone call?

“Young man! What is the meaning of this? I thought you needed help?” 

“No, miss. I..I do need help, but good boys don’t let others make phone calls about them for any reason. Please, he’ll be really angry if he finds out.” Harry was begging now. He knew he could NOT let her make that call. “Please. Don’t call anyone.”

The secretary was baffled. ‘Good boys don’t let others make phone calls about them for any reason?’ What kind of twisted lesson was that? Something was very wrong here. 

“Okay. Okay. I won’t make a call. Can I at least know your first name?”

Harry thought that would be fine. Just his first name, right? 

“It’s Harry, Miss. Just Harry.”

“Pleased to meet you Harry. My name is Miss Bartlett. Is there anything I CAN do to help you?”

(“Good boys do NOT reject offers of service.”) Harry could accept help, just, not phone calls.

“Well, as long as you don’t call anyone, I suppose...may I just sit with you, please? He won’t find me here, and if he does, he can’t do anything since you’re here.”

Now Miss Bartlett knew something was wrong. There was no lingering doubt. Do anything? Who would do anything to a child? Yes, Miss Bartlett was fairly sure of what was going on. 

“So, Harry, may I ask who you live with?”

“Oh, um, well, I live with my Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and cousin, Dudley. Today is Dudley’s birthday which is why we’re here. Only, I wasn’t supposed to come. Dudley didn’t want me to. But, you see, Mrs. Figg, our neighbor who normally watches me when they go out, has broken her leg and can’t take care of me.” 

Harry didn’t realize what he had just revealed. Miss Bartlett didn’t think he would realize. The small boy, who she thought couldn’t be older than 7 or 8, was being suspiciously nonchalant about it. 

“Harry dear, how old are you?” Surely he could stay home by himself for a couple hours if he was 7 or 8.

“I’m 10, Miss Bartlett. I turn 11 on July 31st.” Harry had calmed down significantly and was now back to his apathetic demeanor. 

Miss Bartlett was shocked. How could a child, no taller than a meter and one*, be nearly 11? That had to be wrong. Surely, he wouldn’t be that much shorter than his peers. She decided to take a much closer look at the boy. 

Upon inspection, Miss Bartlett’s suspicions were all but confirmed. Baggy clothes, unruly hair, glasses that were taped repeatedly, and were too large for his face, closed off body language, careful aversion of eyes. Yes, this child was being abused, or at least neglected. 

She needed to distract the boy so she could make a call. 

“Harry, dear, could you do me a favor? In the back there is a file cabinet, and in the lowest drawer is a file I need. It will be labeled, ‘Park Maintenance- 1979’. Be a dear and get it for me?”

Miss Bartlett, of course knew that there were several filing cabinets, and that park maintenance files were never in the very bottom drawer. It would keep him busy for at least 5 minutes. In the meantime, she was going to call security. After the second ring, they picked up. 

“Yes, hello Paul. I have a young man in here that I believe is being abused. Yes, I know that has nothing to do with us. Yes, Paul. Could you just listen to his answers? Yes, pop round please. Don’t come in looking like he’s the reason you’re here. Thank you.” Miss Bartlett hung up and waited patiently for Harry to come back in. 

“Miss Bartlett, is this the one you needed?” Harry knew he had taken a long time, but the file wasn’t where she said it would be!

“Yes, dear. Thank you.”

“It wasn’t in the right place, so it took me longer to find it. I’m sorry.” Harry looked full of guilt. She couldn’t understand why. It wasn’t his fault that she gave him false instructions!

“It’s quite alright. I must have misremembered the place. Good work.”

They sat in silence for a while. Miss Bartlett pretending to work while waiting for Paul to show up, and Harry just sitting there. 

After about 5 more minutes, Paul came in. Immediately Harry looked at Miss Bartlett with a feeling of betrayal. She wasn’t supposed to call anyone!

“Harry dear, I’m sorry. I forgot to mention that Paul was coming over for lunch. We always eat together. Do you mind?”

“No, Miss Bartlett. It’s okay.” (“Good boys do NOT contradict or argue with adults.”)

“Hiya, Harry. My name is Paul, I work for the security group here. How are you?” So far the child seemed normal to him. 

“I’m fine, sir. Thank you.”

“Harry, why don’t you tell Paul what’s coming up next month!”

“My 11th birthday is next month, sir. I’m very excited.” Despite being ‘very excited’, Harry used no emotion when answering. (“Good boys do NOT show too much emotion. It is too annoying.”)

‘ELEVEN? Surely the small boy couldn’t be eleven.’ Paul thought. He quickly turned to Miss Bartlett and saw the grim look on her face. Yes, this boy was being abused. 

“Harry, son, might I inquire as to your home life?” 

This was not the right question to ask. Perhaps saying, ‘what are your plans for your birthday?’, or even ‘aren’t your parents worried about you?’ would have been much better. Paul realized soon after he asked that this was quite possibly the worst thing to ask. 

Harry froze. He couldn’t answer that. (“Good boys do NOT say anything about their home life or how they are taken care of.”) Harry knew he couldn’t answer that. He would be in a lot of trouble if he did. The abnormally small child didn’t seem to realize that he had started rocking, and that he was taking increasingly short and shallow breaths. No, Harry COULD NOT answer that question. That was the most important rule.

Paul and Miss Bartlett watched as Harry completely unraveled. They heard snippets of his muttering. “...good boy...can’t....angry...in trouble...cupboard for a week…” This was the final straw for Miss Bartlett. She sent Paul to go call the policemen while she tried to calm Harry. 

“Harry dear, it’s okay. You don’t have to answer. It’s okay, dear. Please calm down. Harry, love, you’re okay. Your uncle isn’t here. Really, sweetheart. It’s okay. Try and take a deep breath for me.” While this was happening, Paul had successfully contacted the police. They would be there shortly, no longer than 10 minutes. 

“Paul, would you please get a water from the back?”

Miss Bartlett had calmed Harry down enough for him to realize he was safe and still at the zoo with her. 

“Miss Bartlett I can’t answer questions like that. I’ll get in trouble. Please, don’t make me.”

“I won’t, dear. I won’t.”

Paul came over with the water and knelt next to Harry.

“Son, can you tell me the rules you have to follow? That way we won’t upset you again?”

“Yes. You might want a paper. There are a lot of them.”

As Paul went to get a pen and paper, Miss Bartlett continued soothing Harry.

“Alright, Harry. Ready?”

“Yes, sir. There are 28 rules.”

Good boys do NOT say anything about their home life or how they are taken care of.  
Good boys do NOT show emotion because it is too annoying.  
Good boys do NOT contradict or argue with adults.  
Good boys do NOT reject offers of service.  
Good boys do NOT let other make phone calls about them for any reason.  
Good boys do NOT ignore a direct question, unless it interferes with another rule.  
Good boys do NOT tell their real name to anyone.  
Good boys do NOT speak without being spoken to first.  
Good boys do NOT run in public.  
Good boys do NOT sleep in past 6:30 because they need to make breakfast for the family.  
Good boys do NOT ask questions without permission.  
Good boys do NOT slack on the gardening and household chores.  
Good boys do NOT take hot showers because hot water is for the family.  
Good boys do NOT sit at the table or eat with the family.  
Good boys do NOT do anything unless the kitchen is spotless after meals.   
Good boys do NOT get better grades than Dudley, who is the smartest boy.  
Good boys do NOT play with the other children.  
Good boys do NOT read.  
Good boys do NOT go to bed before the family.  
Good boys do NOT leave the cupboard unless allowed by Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon.  
Good boys do NOT talk to the neighbors.  
Good boys do NOT ask for Christmas or Birthday presents.  
Good boys do NOT draw attention away from Dudley.  
Good boys do NOT say things that the family won’t understand.  
Good boys do NOT eat things without permission.  
Good boys do NOT sit on the couch and watch the tellie.  
Good boys do NOT ask about their parents.  
Good boys do NOT do anything freakish.

“Oh, dear. This is quite a lot worse than I thought.” Miss Bartlett was near tears by the time Harry was done. Yes, something was very wrong. 

A meter and one refers to 1.1 meters and is about 3.6 feet. The average height for a 10 yr old male is roughly 4.5 feet, and the average counter is about 3 feet tall, or .914 meters. So Harry’s eyes would be about level with the countertop if not a little over it.  
Mrs. Bartlett is about 30 yrs old and Paul is about 42 yrs old


End file.
